The things that Taylor did to make his parents happy. In his world, he was broken, useless, and had zero motivation for his senior year of highschool. But you see, everyone looked at this seventeen year old boy highly. He was the one who got the good grades and didn't do drugs and will be the first out of his parents kids to graduate.
"3.9 gpa mom. 3.9! I did it!" he told his mom as he came home with his first report card. "Yeah..yeah I'm proud of you." She bluntly replied. He sat the paper next to her as he went to his room, closing his door before crying his eyes out. Unappreciated. He felt unappreciated. He always dreaded coming home. "I need to get away." As he changed out of his school clothes, and wiped his eyes he walked out of his room slowly, eyes still visabally bloodshot red. He stood in his mother's face. "Aren't you to ask me what's wrong?" he waits. "Oh, are you okay?"
His head began spinning.
"Mom, for years on end, I have been dealing with living up to the family's expectations, and I cannot take it anymore mom I am tired I am broken. Breaking my back to make you happy. YOU! and what do I get in return? Not shit nothing! Now if I were to tell everyone that I smoke every chance I get, I have sex and I drink as a stress reliever, who would be mad? Y'all. And I'd sit there like..see, they mad. But if I suddenly ran away everyone would be worried what don't you see?! I don't care for you or anyone's expectations I AM TIRED! I can't do it anymore mom."
He pulls the pistol out of his pants and before his mom could stop him-
BOOM!
~for all who didn't realize, it was a dream..~
*beep beep beep*
Taylor woke up in his bed. "Get yo ass up you have grades to tend to Taylor. TAYLOR GET UP!!!!" His mother yelled from the living room. He grabbed his weed, razor and put it in his backpack, getting ready for school. Another day living in hell.
*Taylor never came home this night. Like he said, see, they mad.*